


the morning came early

by letshargroovetonight



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Campfires, Camping, Fluff, M/M, S'mores, Star Gazing, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 12:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17766773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letshargroovetonight/pseuds/letshargroovetonight
Summary: Steve’s never really been camping. The boys plan a weekend trip.





	the morning came early

**Author's Note:**

> For [@harringroveweekoflove](https://harringroveweekoflove.tumblr.com/)'s Star Gazing & Hand Holding prompts!

“You ever been camping?” Billy asks one day. They’re curled around each other on the couch in Steve’s living room watching TV.

A beer ad plays on the screen — some men are sitting around a campfire when one guys states, “I’m thirsty”, before opening a can of Miller Lite. Then, everyone else starts clamoring for one.

“Nah,” Steve says, wrinkling his nose. Billy flicks at his ear.

“Would you go though?” Billy follows up. “I went camping a bunch when I was a kid. It might be fun. You, me and the great outdoors.”

“I mean, I guess,” Steve half-heartedly agrees. He’s not 100% sure he’d enjoy it.

The Harringtons have never been the camping type. As a kid, Steve had “camped” right outside of the house his parents owned on Monroe Lake. When he was hungry, he had been able to run into the house and eat whatever snack he wanted or if he was bored, he could go inside and put on a movie.

But the more Steve thinks about it over the next few days, the more he thinks it would be a good time. He and Billy could escape for a weekend. They could maybe even leave school early on a Friday. Drive up to Indiana Dunes along Lake Michigan, find a spot all to themselves for a few days. It’s not a California beach, but there’s sand at least.

Steve buys a two person tent that Sunday. When Billy comes over later that night, Steve leads him through the house to the sliding door out back.

“Got something I want to show you,” he offers mysteriously. Billy raises an eyebrow.

“So want to go?” Steve questions, not trying to hide the eagerness in his voice as he presents Billy with the tent he tested setting up out by behind the pool.

“Yeah,” Billy says. “Let’s do it.”

They plan to go to Indiana Dunes the following weekend. Billy lies to Neil, telling him that some of the seniors on the baseball team invited him on a camping trip, and since camping is _manly_ , Neil doesn’t give him too much shit. His father says Billy can go, though Neil does put his foot down when Billy asks about leaving school early on Friday to get a head start on the trip.

Billy’s alarm wakes him up at 5:30am on Saturday morning. He silences it quickly and gets out of bed to stuff some clothes in a duffel, remembering at the last minute to throw in a bathing suit. He snags a thick blanket from his closet and two sleeping bags from the garage too, throwing them and his bag into the backseat of the Camaro before zooming off to Steve’s.

As Billy pulls up, he sees Steve sitting out on the stoop of his house, waiting for him. Steve jumps up to open the garage door so Billy can pull inside. They had discussed this, figuring it would be best if Billy’s car wasn’t parked in front of the Harrington’s all weekend.

“You all ready?” Billy asks as Steve helps him take all the stuff in his car over to the Beemer.

“Yup, should be all set,” Steve replies.

He had packed most of the things Billy told him they’d need the night before. Like the pots and pans for cooking, some pillows, the folding chairs Billy spotted underneath the Harrington’s deck (the ones from when Steve’s parents used to come watch his soccer games), the cooler, and the tent, of course.

“Let’s hit the road,” Steve hoots once they’ve packed everything else away.

They stop at the small grocery store at the edge of town on their way out of Hawkins to stock up on Lit'l Smokies and soup and beans. Steve grabs a carton of muffins, a large bunch of bananas, and a big pouch of trail mix.

Billy throws a bag of marshmallows, a box of graham crackers, and a packet of Hershey's into his basket alongside two cans of Spaghetti-os without a word. Billy finishes off their shopping with three large jugs of water and Steve gets them 6-pack of beer.

“We’re not going to eat all of this. It’s like we’ll be gone for a whole week,” Steve jokes, taking in all that they’ve bought.

“I wish,” Billy replies as they load the grocery bags into Steve’s trunk.

They’re on their way after that, managing to argue about the music on the radio only twice during the three hour drive up to the campsite.

Luck is on their side when they arrive — the two of them find a spot to set up camp on one of the loops right near the water. The site isn’t crowded to begin with and no one is in close vicinity.

“Perfect,” Steve proclaims, pulling off of the dirt road. As they unload the car, Steve notes that the Beemer’s definitely going to need a car wash next week.

With Billy’s help this time around, the tent goes up much quicker than when Steve had done it by himself. They throw their sleeping bags and pillows inside. The cooler is used to store their food, except for the trail mix, which Steve opens to snack on.

“Lemme have some of that,” Billy demands. Steve pours out a pile into the hand Billy’s stuck out towards him. He eats it all in one swoop to the mouth, offers his hand out again for more.

“Well, then, I think it’s time for a swim,” Billy declares after he finishes munching. He shucks off all his clothes, and Steve admires his ass as he dashes over to retrieve his swim trunks from his duffel. He digs around in Steve’s bag too, finds his trunks and throws them over to Steve.

“Coming?” Billy asks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve replies, undressing too, so he can put his bathing suit on. He follows after Billy who walks straight into the water.

“It’s _freezing_ ,” Steve cries, wading in behind Billy. He hugs his arms around himself.

“C’mon, it ain’t that bad,” Billy taunts, skimming some water at Steve.

“Billy, fuck! I swear to —” Steve’s cut off when Billy tackles him into the water.

They sit out in the sand, sunning themselves after their romp in the water. There are a few people a ways down, dots really, along the shore. Billy inches a pinky over near Steve’s thigh, brushing off some of the sand sticking to his skin and Steve shivers.

Later, Billy builds a fire to heat up the mini hot dogs and beans and soup. They drink all the beer and make too much food.

“We have to eat it _all_ ,” Steve insists, “Otherwise a bear will smell it and come raid our site while we’re sleeping.”

Billy chuckles, shoves a spoonful of beans into Steve’s face. Steve groans, pushing his hand away.

“You have to have room for some s’mores though,” Billy cajoles. Steve sighs. He knows he won’t hear the end of it if they don’t make s’mores tonight.

“Alriiiiiiiight,” Steve agrees. Billy finds two sticks they can use to roast the marshmallows. He hands them both to Steve with marshmallows already stuck on at the ends.

“Get to it,” Billy says. He takes out some graham crackers and breaks some squares of chocolate, rests the other ingredients on the tips of his knees. Steve swings his marshmallow in Billy’s direction.

“No, no, no. You have to wait until they’re charred,” Billy reprimands. “That’s when they make the best s’more.”

Steve grumbles, holds them back over the fire.

“Is this up to you standard now?” Steve questions showing Billy the thoroughly roasted marshmallows.

“Yup,” Billy says. He sandwiches one of the marshmallows in between the graham cracker, holding the chocolate onto to one side, and then does the same for the other one. He hands the gooier looking one to Steve. Steve bites into his, can’t help the moan of satisfaction he lets out.

Billy leans over and licks some of the sticky fluff that’s caught on the side of Steve’s mouth, licks into Steve’s mouth next.

Once the sun has set and the fire is only embers, Billy spreads the blanket out on the ground and lies on it. He pats at the space beside him and Steve settles down next to him.

“The stars,” Steve comments simply as they look up at the night sky. They’re so crisp and clear out here.

Billy’s lifts a hand up in the air, drifting it lazily about, pointing out constellations. The Big Dipper, the Little Dipper — those Steve knows about in passing but still wouldn’t be able to identify. Then Billy shows him ones he’s never even heard of.

“There’s Draco,” he says. Steve follows the line of stars Billy traces, sees a dragon’s tail trailing across the sky.

“And see that cross?” Billy asks. Steve hums. “That’s Cygnus. It’s supposed to be a swan.”

And Steve thinks it makes sense, can picture wings outstretched from the starry line of its body.

“How do you know so much about the stars?” Steve wonders. He’s trying to commit these to memory so he can seek them out in the sky on another night. Maybe to impress Billy with how he remembers some of them.

“My mom and dad would show me when we went camping back in California,” Billy says.

Billy lets his arm fall back to the ground, resting in between their bodies. Steve reaches over and threads his fingers through Billy’s, feels the cool, dry skin along his knuckles. Steve squeezes his hand and Billy squeezes back.

Steve wakes up before Billy on Sunday. Everything is quiet, and for a little while, he watches Billy’s face in the soft morning light flooding through the tent, wishing they didn’t have to go home to Hawkins so soon. He reaches out, brushes a knuckle against the soft of Billy’s cheek. The other boy slowly blinks awake.

“Morning Steve,” Billy rasps with a sleepy smile.

The amount of times they can wake up next to each other like this are few and far between. Steve pulls him in close, presses a kiss on top of his head.

“Do we have to go back?” Billy murmurs into Steve’s neck.

Steve nods, his chin pushing at Billy’s forehead.

“But we’re doing this again,” Steve states. He’s already planning their next camping trip in his head.

"How about next weekend?" Billy throws out there. He must be planning too.

"Hmmmm," Steves goes, as if he really has to think about it, as if he may have big plans. "That _might_ work."

Billy knows it will work. He grins and stretches up to kiss Steve.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr [@letshargroovetonight](https://letshargroovetonight.tumblr.com/)


End file.
